Bride On The Run (Historical Romance) by Elizabeth Lane Read Free Book Online

obituary in the newspaper. “Why? Do you need to stop?”
    Anna chose to ignore the question. “You must be anxious to get back to your children,” she said, pressing against the barricade of his reserve. “Can you tell me more about them?”
    He sighed wearily. “Not that much to tell. Young Joshua’s a typical boy. Likes to ride and fish and help with the stock. Carrie…” he paused, as if conjuring the girl up in his mind. “She does a fine job of running the house. She’s getting tall. Going to be a pretty woman one day, like her mother.”
    Anna felt the tremor in his chest as he swallowed. She could not doubt that Malachi’s drowned wife had been beautiful, nor that he still loved her deeply.
    “What do you do about their schooling?” she asked, shifting the talk to safer ground.
    “They school themselves—with help from me when the ferry traffic’s slow. We’re not as uncivilized as you might think. There are plenty of books at the ferry—Shakespeare, Dickens, Plutarch. There’s even a piano that I bought off a Mormon family in Kanab and hauled down to the house. Carrie plays a little—but only by ear. Can’t read the one music book we’ve got.”
    “I could teach her—” Anna gulped back the rest of the offer. There would be no time for piano lessons. As soon as Malachi could clear the road and repair the buckboard she would be gone.
    “It sounds as if you’ve done a fine job of raising them.”
    “Credit their mother for that. It’s been a strugglefor me just to keep them fed and schooled this past year, let alone dress them decently and teach them proper manners. They need the touch of a good woman at home.” He hesitated. “We all do.”
    A good woman , Anna thought, feeling the sting of his words like brine in a razor cut. But certainly not this woman !
    Suddenly it was all too much. She wanted to wound him, to ravage his pride as he had ravaged hers. “So, how many others have their been?” she asked casually.
    “What?” She felt him jerk.
    “How many other women has your cousin, Mr. Wilkinson, sent down to you?” she pressed him. “How many others, before me, have left because they couldn’t measure up to the perfect wife you lost?”
    Malachi’s body had gone rigid beneath her hands, and Anna knew she had pushed him too far. But then, what did it matter? She had endured the long, punishing ride on the freight wagon, the dust, the flies, the blinding desert sun, only to come face-to-face with a man who’d despised her on sight. A man who’d by turns ignored her, insulted her and treated her like a tramp. She was soaked, frozen, half-starved and so sore she could barely move without wincing. If he didn’t like her question, the high-minded Mr. Malachi Stone could go skin himself with a rusty hatchet!
    “How many do you think?” She could almost hear his teeth grinding as he bit back his irritation.
    “I asked you,” she shot back. “You certainly can’t expect me to guess about such a delicate matter.”
    He growled something Anna couldn’t understand. “Blast it, you know you’re the first, don’t you?”
    “The very first?” Anna feigned shock. “But surely not the last! Do you plan to try again and hope for better luck?”
    “Not until I’ve wrung Stuart Wilkinson’s neck and hired myself a new matchmaker.”
    “Why not give me that job?” Anna needled him. “I could find you the ideal wife! All I’d have to do is look for a woman the exact opposite of me—as big as a barn door, as strong as a lumberjack and as proper as a nun! Now that would be worth the fare to San Francisco, wouldn’t it?”
    Malachi swore under his breath, probably thinking that he would cheerfully pay her passage to hell and back if she would just leave him alone. Surely a railroad ticket to California wouldn’t be too much to ask of him.
    Anna was about to push her request once more when a glimmer of light, far below the road, caught her eye. She strained outward, peering